18 September 1945, 17:00
On the 15th I ended up back at the camp I was brought to first — because of my illness, though there is nothing wrong with me. There are very few Hungarians here now, about 10 of us. The food here is much worse and scantier than in the city camp. I don't like being here. I am trying to get back as soon as possible to where I came from. There are no good friends here — how could there be, as I can't even speak with them. I hope I won't be in this uncomfortable situation for long.
16 December 1945, 11:00
A great deal has happened to me over this long period. At first things were a little difficult, but later the food improved too — and I might even say I put on some weight. A few more Hungarians came, so I was quite content until recently, but now I have ended up in a truly bad place, the one I had always feared: the forest. Yesterday was my first day out working — we loaded wagons with logs. A 5 km walk each way, 10 km on foot through the deep snow every day. The food is moderate. Our accommodation is wooden; we keep a fire all night so it is warm enough. It needs to be, as we have no straw mattresses and our only cover is our coats. During the day we don't get cold, only our feet, as we were given quilted clothing. My shoes are quite poor — rubber soles. There is no talk of going home, and it doesn't seem like it will come true any time soon. I don't know if or when I will feel like writing in this little book again. With that I will close — the snow is falling beautifully.
...
7 September 1946
Almost a year has passed since I last wrote anything. Since then I have been in the forest the entire time. Thank God, no misfortune has befallen me so far. I survived the winter in good health amidst great suffering — and many hands and feet did freeze. We cut and haul the great trees, load the wagons. It is very hard going for us, and now another winter must be endured here. But I am at peace, because I read my dear Mother's handwriting, which reassured me completely — that my brothers are at home and nothing particularly out of the ordinary has happened. Though I don't believe this one hundred percent. The village fair is drawing near again. I truly never thought, this time last year, that another year on I would still be here in this paradise. I thought we would celebrate this fair together, in the peaceful circle of the family — but it was not to be. A little about my current situation. I must sadly report that I am now ill — I have been suffering from malaria for a week and cannot get up. I practically crawled to this little table. I am in the infirmary for an indefinite period. I will stop now as I can no longer sit up. The sweat is dripping off me. I look forward to the letters very much.